


Left Behind

by camichats



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angst, Breaking Up & Making Up, Implied Sexual Content, Jon Snow is Not a Stark, M/M, Miscommunication, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-06
Updated: 2019-06-06
Packaged: 2020-04-12 01:58:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19122283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/camichats/pseuds/camichats
Summary: When Robb left for King's Landing without a word, Jon felt like half of his heart was missing. Robb finally returns, expecting, for some reason, that Jon will be willing to pick up their relationship right where they left off.





	Left Behind

**Author's Note:**

> Jon is a ward of Ned Stark like Theon, but not his bastard, hence the lack of an incest tag

Jon felt like all the air in the room had suddenly vanished. "Gone? What do you mean Robb's gone?"

It was clear from the look on Sansa's face that she empathized. "He left for King's Landing with Father."

"He told us he was going hunting with Theon!" Arya said. "Did he tell you he was leaving? Why didn't you say something earlier? We could have stopped him, could have-"

"It was his decision to make," Sansa shot back heatedly, "and the only reason I know is because I was the first one of us that Theon saw when he returned, and he told me what Robb had done. I don't _condone_ him leaving us all behind!"

The rest of the argument faded to the background in Jon's mind, noise fuzzing out as he tried to process what this meant. Ned Stark had just been named Hand of the King. He wouldn't return for a minimum of three years, if everything went well. It was possible that Robb would return without him, but there hadn't been many Northerners that went with them, and Robb wouldn't be allowed to make the journey alone. Maybe Jon could go and get him... but no.

Seven hells, Catelyn must be beside herself with worry. _Stark's don't do well in the South_ , she had pointed out, voice engraved with concern, and that was just when she'd thought it was her husband making the trip, not her firstborn son.

Jon walked away to tell her the news just in case Theon hadn't thought to-- or, as his excuse would say 'he hadn't gotten around to it' when the truth was that Catelyn didn't like either of her husband's wards because she didn't trust them. Lady Stark disliked him plenty, so one more piece of bad news surely wouldn't hurt his image in her eyes. He wandered around Winterfell looking for her, but it turned out, when he finally found her, that it had been for nothing; she already knew.

"You knew about this, didn't you," she said, glaring at him, her eyes filled with hate. Unfortunately, it was not a new look on her when Jon was around. "And you said nothing. Robb _listens_ to you, you could have stopped him from being a fool and going to a city where everyone wants him dead!"

Jon said nothing. What _could_ he say? Catelyn thought that Robb wouldn't have left if Jon had said something, but the truth was that Robb hadn't even considered talking to Jon about it. Because Jon's personal opinion on the matter just... wasn't important. He gave her a small bow, then left.

At some point it occurred to him that he'd left a few, ahem, personal effects in Robb's room. Certain items that he couldn't explain should Lady Stark ask him. She'd have to have someone clean his room now that Robb wasn't there to take care of it himself, and it was better not to put something like this off. Jon made his way there, only to find it empty of what he was looking for. He froze for a moment-- had Catelyn already found out? But no, he'd _just_ seen her, she would have said something if she knew that he had been defiling her son instead of leaving him to marry some highborn lady of proper parentage.

With a sinking stomach, he went to his room. Sure enough, there the incriminating items were, laid out plainly on his bed, but not by any handmaiden or castle cleaner: by Robb. The whole sum of their physical relationship, the way they'd whispered 'I love you' under furs and kissed with the fear of being caught, all set out for Jon to find like the coldest rejection he'd ever felt.

He swallowed thickly, clenching his hands into fists. Apparently, there was a good reason for Robb not saying a proper goodbye: he hadn't given a shit. He was going to follow in Ned's footsteps as best he could, and Jon didn't factor into that life plan so he was left behind. Jon might have understood except... except... Robb had told him forever when he tangled his fingers in Jon's hair, and Jon had believed him.

What's one more fool to the seven kingdoms?

* * *

Catelyn looked at her family surveying the coming entourage, with no small amount of pride. Sansa had taken to being the Lady of Winterfell beautifully, Bran was doing well adjusted as he was to his new lifestyle, Arya was a more skilled fighter than nearly everyone she'd come against, Rickon was still small but coming into his own in a way that made her proud, and Jon was loyal to a fault, protecting their family and looking out for them, somehow managing to see the good in everyone where she was more wary. Theon had gone off to join the Night's Watch nearly a year ago, so Robb and Ned at least knew to not expect him. Truthfully, to Catelyn, Jon felt less like one of her children-- or Ned's-- and more like someone one of her children had married. Still incredibly close, and still family, but a little bit different.

She stared for another few minutes before she joined them at the wall. The view was perfect, and the lot of them watched the horses and troops trudge along through the mud that had come with last night's rain. With the main gate open, they could see far down the line.

"Do you see them?" Bran asked. He was only a couple feet shorter, but it did leave him with a shorter range of view than the rest of them.

"Not yet," Catelyn said, laying a hand on his shoulder and squeezing.

"I don't think Dad will recognise me," Rickon said.

"Course he will," Jon assured him, "you look like Bran when he was your age."

"I'm a lot taller than Bran," Rickon pointed out with all the confidence of someone that had no idea how tall Bran would be if he could stand. "He might not know to look this far up."

Jon smiled fondly. "You're his blood, he'll know you in an instant."

Comforted, at least for the moment, Rickon grinned and went back to looking at the procession.

"I imagine," Catelyn said in an undertone, so that only Jon could hear her, "that Ned will be quite pleased with the current state of our relationship."

"I'm sure he will be," Jon said with a smile that she returned. "Surprised too, although I imagine he'll be most surprised that Arya might be able to best him in a fight now."

"Oh dear," she breathed. "Don't tell him I let that happen, I want him to think nothing happened that wouldn't have done the same if he'd stayed home."

"You hardly _let_ it happen," Jon said, just to get the facts straight though he knew it wouldn't make a difference to her after all the times he'd said it to no effect, "but he won't hear it from me."

"That means no telling Robb either," she said pointedly. "There's no telling how close the two of them have become in King's Landing together."

Jon's smile became rather fixed, but they were looking at the road again, not each other. "If they hear about it, it won't have been from me."

"What are the chances Arya would keep it to herself if I asked?"

Jon snorted, and Catelyn sighed, amused.

"That's what I was afraid of."

"There!" Rickon shouted, pointing in the distance, up on his tiptoes like it would bring him closer. He immediately ran for the stairs, grabbing Catelyn's hand and pulling because he knew he'd get in trouble for running off without her. It didn't take much convincing for the group of them to head down to meet Ned and Robb. The only reason Arya and Sansa weren't trying to run forward as well was because they were both in the phase of trying to convince everyone that they were completely calm and in control. Jon had no such reservations, but he couldn't very well leave Catelyn to deal with all her children by herself when she was excited to see the returning family members as well. Not to mention that Robb wouldn't be over the moon to see Jon, so there was no reason to ride out to meet him like he expected a warm welcome.

They lined up along the street to wait for them because while they were family, they were still lords and ladies, and they had to conduct themselves with a certain amount of restraint. Excepting for Jon of course, but the people of Winterfell tended to view him as one of the family as well, and as such he was often held to the same standard.

Jon was fiddling with a strap hanging off Bran's wheelchair when they came into view, and he only knew to look up because Sansa breathed, "Oh wow." He looked up, eyes automatically drawn to where Robb and Ned were. He felt a little breathless to see how Robb had grown up. He'd really come into his own, and even if he were still interested in Jon, he knew that he wouldn't measure up; he never had.

Robb looked... bloody gorgeous. His hair was a dark red that could be mistaken for brown when the sun wasn't hitting it. He had it cut a little longer than when Jon had last seen him, but it was still on the shorter side, hanging into his forehead in thick waves instead of curled behind his ears like Jon's. He'd always been handsome, but now it looked refined, adult instead of boyish. His bearing was that of a high lord, riding with a posture that commanded respect and had earned it.

"He looks like Father," Sansa whispered excitedly.

"He does," Catelyn agreed, sounding like she approved of that.

In all honesty, Jon didn't see it. Sure Robb had Ned's bearing now, but to say that he _looked_ like him? He tried to imagine it, but it didn't mesh. He dropped the idea and went back to looking. Ned was older, but the only change to him was maybe another wrinkle or two. Perhaps his hair was a shade longer.

By the old gods, Robb was looking even better than Jon had imagined, and there was a mix of shame and longing in his stomach. The shame was obvious: Robb had dumped him without a word, and he should have taken that message to heart instead of holding onto hope that Robb would change his mind when he got back. The longing was, unfortunately, also obvious: Robb was handsome and smiled so easily. Even if, somehow, Robb thought Jon as physically attractive-- which was doubtful-- he'd have no interest in him personally.

When Robb and Ned saw them, they got off their horses and made their way over, wide smiles on their faces. Ned embraced Rickon first because Rickon threw himself into his father's arms, babbling and introducing himself like Ned wouldn't have been able to figure it out.

Jon froze in shock when Robb walked right up to him and embraced him in a bear hug. O...kay well maybe Robb was just keeping up appearances. Last anyone knew, they were as close as two people could be, so it would be a little suspicious if he ignored Jon.

"Missed you so much," Robb said, squeezing him tighter. He pulled back a little so that they could see each other's faces, but he didn't let go completely. "It was absolute murder getting through that without you, I wish you could've come."

"How could I have gone with you?" Jon asked, raising an eyebrow. It's not like Robb invited him, or, you know, thought about him at all as he made the decision to go. He shook his head. "You had loads of fun without me, don't act like you didn't." Jon shifted his shoulders to show his discomfort with Robb's hold, and it worked, Robb dropping his hands to the side with a confused frown. He cleared his throat, taking a step back. "Now that I've said hello, I have duties that need attending. M'lord," he said, with a deferential nod to Robb that made his frown deepen.

"Oh no you don't," Catelyn said, putting her arm through Jon's and keeping him in place. "Ned will insist that we all spend the rest of the day together after so long apart, and quite frankly, I agree with him. You don't get to run off just because you've said hello to Robb."

"You two get on now?" Robb asked, looking between the two of them.

"Well once I realised that _you_ were the trouble maker and not Jon, it was a lot easier to like him. Theon never stopped being reckless, but he did stop trying to prove himself at every turn to show that he could stay at your side as an equal, so before he took the black, even he and I got on. For a short while, at least. Jon, on the other hand, is my new favourite son-- barring Rickon and Bran, of course."

"Of course," Robb repeated, looking supremely amused. "How is it that I got passed over for Father's ward when the last time I saw you, you couldn't stand to be in the same room as him?"

"You were gone for a long time," Jon muttered. "Give it a few days and you'll be back to her favourite, I assure you."

"Oh no need to be so pessimistic, Jon," she tsked. "I am capable of having four favourite sons; all Robb has to do is be around to join your ranks, it doesn't mean that you're getting booted out."

"What's this I hear?" Ned asked, Rickon still hanging off of him.

"Mother and Jon are the best of friends, apparently."

Ned's eyebrows shot up. "Is that so?"

"He exaggerates," Jon said.

"He does," Catelyn agreed, "but not by much. It's been awfully nice to have someone here when the two men of the House left with barely a word." She turned a somewhat frosty look to Robb, who rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "But enough of that. Let's have tea and hear about your southern adventures."

* * *

That night, Jon was stripped down to his small clothes, ready to sleep, when a knock came on his door. He frowned, wondering who it could be, and his frown only deepened when he opened it to reveal Robb.

Robb, who had left him behind without a word after promising him a life together. Robb, who was currently looking at him like he was the best person to ever exist.

"What are you doing here?"

"Wanted to see you." His eyes roved over Jon's half naked state, obviously leering. "No complaints so far." He stepped inside, and Jon automatically let him in. Robb kicked the door closed and put a hand on the side of Jon's face, kissing him without hesitation.

Jon just kind of stood there and let it happen.

Robb pulled back after a few seconds, frowning. "Something wrong? There's not-" he dropped his hand, something akin to anger sparking in his eyes. "Is there someone else?"

"No, there's not anyone else."

"Then what's wrong?"

"Why does something have to be wrong? Maybe I don't want to kiss you is all."

"What?" The anger was gone, replaced with hurt. "Why wouldn't you want to kiss me? Before I left, you said you loved me."

"Before you left," Jon repeated.

"Are you seriously this bent out of shape that I went south without you? _I_ wasn't even supposed to go. Father nearly sent me back when he found out I was there."

Jon just sighed. "Go to your room Robb."

"No, not until you explain what's going on."

"Nothing's going on."

"Obviously _something_ is going on, the last time I saw you, you never wanted me to leave your side."

"Yes, and now there's nothing. For years, there's been nothing, because you left. You told me what I wanted to hear. You told me you loved me, and that there was no one else in all seven kingdoms for you. We fucked, and you decided that was enough and you left. So how about you do it again and leave?"

"I _do_ love you."

"And how many whores have you said that to before you were in balls deep? Does the lie make the fuck better?"

"Jon-"

"Get out," he said, turning his back.

"I left because of you!"

Jon froze.

"You were always better than me at _everything_. Riding, archery, swords, all of it. You're prettier. Everyone wanted you, and they'd bow to me and tell me how handsome I was, but it was _you_ they wanted."

"Fucking me over because you're jealous isn't better." It hurt more, but maybe that was the point.

"I wasn't jealous," Robb denied, pulling at his hair in frustration. "I mean, not jealous of you, jealous _for_ you. I wasn't... all I had was my father's name. I wanted to prove to you that I could be better, that I could deserve your affection more than the others. Yes, when I heard that Father was leaving, I followed him because I thought that when I got back you'd want me as much as I wanted you."

Jon grit his teeth. "I already wanted you. All you had to bloody do was stay."

"I wasn't worthy of you Jon, I wanted-"

"I'm not a fucking prize at a tourney, but you had me. You still would if you weren't such a cursed idiot."

"Jon-"

"Get _out_."

There was silence, then the sound of boots on the floor. The door opened then closed, and Jon sighed, putting his face in his hands. If what Robb had said was true, then maybe Jon shouldn't be quite as upset as he was. That didn't matter though, because that's the sort of thing Robb should have said before they slept together. It wasn't the act of leaving that was so terrible, necessarily, it was that Robb had made this rather sudden decision the _day_ after they'd had sex for the first time. It was difficult to take that as anything other than a fuck-and-run.

* * *

"Alright," Arya said, coming up next to him, silent as a ghost, "what's going on with you two?"

"What?" Jon asked, frowning. He wasn't aware that _anything_ had been going on between Ser Rodrick and himself, much less something that Arya would need to comment on.

"You and Robb."

"Oh." That.

"Yeah 'oh'. I thought you'd be attached at the hip again, but you're acting like nothing's changed since last week, and Robb's walking around looking like a kicked hound. Normally I'd leave you to it, but he won't leave me and Sansa alone since he doesn't have someone else to bother."

"So you want me to talk to him so that he can bother me instead of you?"

"I want you to talk so that he'll stop moping. I'm used to you moping but on him it's just weird."

"I'm not seeing why I should do this."

"Because you're more miserable than usual."

Jon sighed.

"Am I wrong?" she asked, with all the confidence of someone that knew they were right.

"Talking to Robb will make me more miserable, not less."

"Well that's a shame because he's heading this way."

"What?" Jon hissed.

Arya nodded in a direction past him, and Jon turned to look, glaring when he saw that sure enough, Robb was walking towards them. She stuck around exactly long enough to say hello to her brother, and then she took off.

They both watched her go in awkward silence. "She's a bloody menace," Jon grumbled.

Robb cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I take it you're still cross with me?"

"Cross is what I feel when Arya borrows my clothes and accidentally tears them. What I feel towards you is more like murderous intent."

"You could be thrown in the dungeons for threatening the heir of Winterfell."

"It's no fucking wonder you didn't learn to move on if this is how you talk to people." Jon turned and walked away, but Robb kept pace with him.

"I explained myself last night, I don't know what else I can say to make you understand."

"Did you ever consider that me forgiving you isn't set in the stars?"

"What?"

"Stop thinking that I'm going to forgive you because I'm not sure I will."

Robb came to a stop, forcing Jon to stop alongside him with a hand on his arm. "Are you serious? You're just... not going to forgive me."

"That's the plan."

Robb's shoulders sagged, and he let go of Jon's arm, but he didn't immediately leave. "I thought I'd be coming back to you. That I could come back and love you so much better than before, and we'd be happy."

"What was wrong with the way you loved me the first time?"

"You deserved better. It's- you've _always_ deserved better. I thought I could give it to you now."

Jon sighed. "What made you think I needed better? I was happy with the way things were. Not to mention Robb, how could I do better than the future Lord Stark? I wasn't going to head to the capital to get some stranger to fuck me on the off chance that they'd be a more respected lord than you."

Robb swallowed thickly, looking every bit as miserable as Arya had described. "Right."

The truth was... gods Jon didn't feel that mad anymore. He wasn't ready to pick right up where they left off, but he was no longer toying with the idea of heading to the Wall just to be free of him. He'd gotten most of his frustration out last night, and this conversation had taken the rest of it. He sighed again. "We'll talk tonight-- just talk. You can tell me what great things you learned in the south."

He perked up. "Yeah?"

Jon nodded, and Robb grinned.

"Okay."

* * *

Robb gasped as Jon sunk down onto him, hands scrabbling at Jon's thighs. "Fuck," he panted, chest heaving. " _Fuck_."

Once he was lowered all the way down, Jon paused, letting himself adjust. He leaned forward, kissing Robb messily. "If you ever leave me like that again, I'll cut your fucking dick off."

Robb's throat worked as he tried to find words. "Understood."

"I enjoy your cock," Jon said, rolling his hips with a groan, "so don't make me do that."

"I won't," Robb promised. "Gods I fucking won't will you please _move_."

"Needy."


End file.
